


Everything she takes, she takes apart

by threeguesses



Category: Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Ensemble Cast, F/F, F/M, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Motherhood, take your daughter to work day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-07
Updated: 2011-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:33:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeguesses/pseuds/threeguesses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time she blinks, she strikes somebody blind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything she takes, she takes apart

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for lowriseflare's prompt (ensemble, _take your daughter to work day_ ) in [The Good Wife Comment Fic Meme](http://sweetjamielee.livejournal.com/68614.html).
> 
> Title and summary from Loudon Wainright's _Daughter_. The poem Kalinda and David Lee quote is, of course, _La Belle Dame Sans Merci_.

Grace insisted on coming. She was armed with a green binder and three new mechanical pencils, had done her hair in a knot, high and sophisticated. It made her look older. Alicia sighed, cupping the new curve of her daughter’s jaw, sharp and getting sharper, and caved in the face of its unfamiliarity. (Grace was already wearing a cross around her neck, going to church; Alicia didn’t want to miss anything else.)

“I won’t be in court,” she warned, but Grace had stars in her eyes. She’d packed her own lunch, was waiting and organized long before Alicia had finished getting ready.

“Can I have some lipstick?” she asked, leaning on Alicia’s vanity. She was wearing her most grown-up sweater dress. Alicia missed her round cheeks, her childhood belly.

“Sure.”

Grace insisted on the red but let Alicia put it on, obediently tilting her head and rubbing her lips together on command. Her mouth looked wide and foreign.

“Okay?” She peered nervously at the mirror.

“Lovely,” Alicia smiled.

Zach rolled his eyes at them over his cereal, but Peter caught Grace’s chin and pronounced her his “beautiful girl”. She lit up like the sun.

“We’ll be late,” Alicia said quietly. They turned to look at her as one and Alicia felt out of place and separate, outside their private father-daughter moment.

Then Grace smiled, shouldering her grown-up messenger bag (no patterns or large logos or pink because _Mom, how will anyone take me seriously?_ ) and the spell was broken.

 

Inside Lockhart-Gardner, Alicia quickly realized Will hadn’t been lying when he said Take Your Daughter to Work Day was an encouraged tradition (she worried, sometimes, that he was only saying what he thought she wanted to hear). There was a gaggle of preteens in the lobby, bassinets on some of the assistants’ desks. A solemn, wide-eyed girl was sitting on Courtney’s lap.

“My niece,” Courtney explained. “Karin.” The girl hid her head into Courtney’s neck. Her tiny patent-leather shoes tugged at something deep and half-forgotten in Alicia’s abdomen.

“I’m Grace,” Grace said easily, reaching over to shake Courtney’s hand. She smiled at Karin, a soft maternal smile to go with the sharp new lines of her jaw.

“First up is the staff meeting,” Alicia explained once they were inside the office. Grace’s eyes raked curiously over her desk, over the file folders and the post-its and the neatly organized pens. “I’m not sure if you’re allowed,” Alicia told her, “but I’ll check.”

She caught up with Kalinda in the bullpen. “Go for it,” Kalinda said with a shrug and a flick of her hand, “I think legal’s bringing at least one baby.” She paused, watching through the glass as Grace sat down gingerly in Alicia’s chair. “She looks almost nothing like you, you know.”

Alicia followed her gaze, sighing. “You should have seen her when she was little,” she murmured. “The blondest curls. Like fairy-hair.”

“Are you having a moment here or something?” Kalinda said, but her face was fond. She squeezed Alicia’s wrist lightly. “I’ll save two seats.”

 

Legal brought three babies. One of them, the closest to Alicia and Grace, was silly and dimpled with agile feet. Alicia caught its tiny kicking sock in one hand, but it only had eyes for Kalinda.

“It’s the notebook,” Kalinda sighed, shifting the orange cover beneath a folder and offering the baby her finger instead.

“Do you have any kids, Ms. Sharma?” Grace asked politely. She seemed mildly star-struck.

Kalinda widened her eyes at the baby playfully; it collapsed into gurgles. “Not a one.”

Nearly everyone at the meeting made a point of introducing themselves to Grace. ‘How’s school’ and ‘Do you want to be a lawyer?’ were common themes. When Will came over Grace turned wary, sharp shoulders raised and bristling. But all she did was shake his hand. All she said was “pleased to meet you,” voice measured and clipped.

“Alright,” Kalinda whispered in Alicia’s ear with a smirk. “ _Now_ I can see it.”

Alicia shushed her, a mix of guilt and pride settling in her chest at the sight of her daughter’s poker-face.

 

After the meeting, Grace did her homework quietly while Alicia prepped an opening statement, lined up the order of her witnesses. A few people slipped in and out over the course of the morning - some ignored Grace, some didn’t.

“And what are you working on, young lady?” David Lee asked, giving her his ‘what-alimony?’ smile.

“An essay on Keats,” Grace said shyly. Her lipstick had long since worn off.

“Ah,” David Lee exclaimed, drawing himself up. “‘Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, alone and palely loitering? The sedge has withered from the lake, and no birds sing.’” Grace smiled tentatively as he waggled a finger at her. “A wonderful poem. Befits your lovely mother, don’t you think?”

Grace opened her mouth to reply, but he was already out the door.

“What did he mean, Mom?” she asked, brow furrowed.

“Nothing worth repeating,” Alicia said exasperatedly, praying that Grace’s class was studying something else. To Autumn, Ode on a Grecian Urn. Anything. “Don’t worry about it.”

Grace bent her head back over her essay, but she was frowning.

“David Lee compared me to a malevolent fairy in front of my daughter,” Alicia announced when Kalinda stopped by an hour later. Grace was inspecting the vending machines in the office kitchen.

“O-kay,” Kalinda drawled, giving Alicia her ‘I’m-not-sure-why-I-like-you’ look. “Anyways. Want to go do a couple of the interviews for the Kaluski thing?”

“I thought those weren’t needed until Friday.” Alicia began frantically sifting through the papers in her to-do tray.

Kalinda stopped her with a laugh. “They aren’t, but I figured sitting in your office might not be a teenager’s idea of fun.” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

“Oh,” Alicia said, surprised. “Wow. That’s— very thoughtful of you, Kalinda, thank you. But I can’t,” she continued on a sigh. “I have a meeting with Diane to discuss the Farrow case.”

Kalinda shrugged. “That’s alright,” she said, heading towards the door. “See if Grace still wants to.”

“Really?” Alicia gasped, delighted. “You’d take her anyways?”

“Sure,” Kalinda smiled. “Besides, having a kid along might actually help with the interviews.”

“Oh, Kalinda, thank you so mu—” She stopped. “Kalinda Sharma, are you planning to involve my daughter in illegal activity?”

Kalinda looked exasperated. “No.”

“Okay,” Alicia said skeptically. She paused. “But don’t— don’t flirt in front of her,” she said finally. “Don’t use your… wiles to get the information you want, or, or—” she raised her voice over the sound of Kalinda’s pealing laughter “—if you do, for god’s sakes do it _subtly_. If she comes back asking me for—for leather boots and a lock-picking kit, you don’t want to know _what_ I’ll do.”

“No?” Kalinda looked up from under her eyelashes. “And what might that be?”

“Hi,” said a bright voice to their left – Grace, back from the vending machines. She was holding a Kit-Kat bar, some M&Ms. “What’s going on?”

Kalinda turned away from Alicia, still smirking. “Hi,” she told Grace. “Feel like going on a field trip?”

Grace begged and begged. And when Alicia eventually agreed, Kalinda’s knowing smile had nothing to do with it.

 

They were gone through lunch. Alicia tried her very best not to worry about that.

She was sitting at Courtney’s desk with Karin on her lap (Courtney had dashed out to get salads) when Will dropped by, purposeful gate slowing to a stop as he spotted her.

“Will. Hi.” She felt strangely exposed, as if he’d caught her at something. There was as a pause as she struggled to sit up against Karin’s warm baby-weight. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh.” Will looked awkward. “I was just… I wanted to meet Grace more properly.”

Alicia smiled, touched. “You’re out of luck – she’s off with Kalinda learning how to bend the letter of the law.”

“Life skills for every teenager,” he said, smiling back. He hovered by the desk, touching the corner of Karin’s sippy cup. “And whose—?”

“Courtney’s niece.”

“Cute kid.”

“She is.”

And then there was nothing to say. Karin’s patent leather shoes seemed to be making the words stick in their throats. There was that time, in Georgetown, when they had thought— but then the stick hadn’t turned blue, and Alicia met Peter, and—

“Well,” said Will. “I better head back.”

“Yeah,” Alicia agreed softly. “You should.”

Courtney breezed in five minutes later, two salads and a Kinder Surprise tucked underneath her coat. Karin was ragdoll-floppy, sleepy and acquiescent in a way Alicia’s own kids had never been. Alicia was both sad and relieved to give her up.

 

“Awesome,” was all Grace said when she came back, dashing off to phone a friend from Alicia’s office.

“Do I want to know?” Alicia asked a sly Kalinda.

“Mmm, the million dollar question.” Kalinda peeled off her gloves, ignoring Alicia’s exasperated smile. “‘I met a lady in the meads…’” she murmured, trailing off and cocking her head. “I would have gone with Tennyson, myself. If I were going to insult you poetically.”

“God, did Grace tell you? I was praying her class hadn’t read it.” Then: “Which Tennyson?”

Kalinda smiled her secret smile. “The Lady of Shallot.”

“‘I am half-sick of shadows.’” Alicia shook her head ruefully. “I’d rather be the malevolent fairy.”

“Wouldn’t we all,” said Kalinda, and waltzed off down the hallway.


End file.
